Aftermath, Part Five: Endings and new beginnings in Duendewood

When it was done, they went north: Tarric and Werendril, Aesa and Rose, Ruin and Sun, Scar, and Risk. Ruin had never found a suitable candidate to replace the Druid Hierophant, and so stepped into the role himself, with Alnira and Zoriel and Elendor to help him. They squabbled -- frequently -- but over time the druids returned to their former strength, and from time to time the Elf-King Mythrandril would call on them for counsel or aid. At long last, Ruin turned Saladhael's Stone over to Zoriel, and with it the position of Druid Hierophant.

Aesa built a small shrine to Amun in the wilderness just outside of Calisthum and settled in; to her considerable surprise, she found a following among the local elves, and over time her shrine became a chapel and then a temple. Eventually, she married an elvish ranger who had once worked with Werendril and then gone on to join the resistance; three or four times a year, they would go and visit Aesa's father in Annun, and both of them felt that those trips were adventure enough... especially as their family grew. 

Tarric and Werendril drifted apart, unable to overcome their shared grief at the deaths of Anica and Rune. Tarric returned to Sol Povos, and eventually became Tavros' right hand; making it a habit to have Zone of Truth active for all policy debates had a transforming effect on the politics of the court. Werendril returned to the Order of the Golden Bow, training new candidates and working to maintain the peace along the border with Sol Povos; it was a full century before he caught the eye of a silver-haired bard, who courted him relentlessly until he finally gave in and accepted her proposal.

Amaranth kept her smithy and her apprentice where the resistance had once had its camp, a few miles southwest of the sacred grove; her work was good enough that her customers came to her. Ruin stopped in to visit her when he was in the area, and sometimes she came to Calisthum to check on the blade she'd made for him. Eventually they stopped pretending it was casual and got married, adding three more names (Ash, Tybalt, and Azrael) to the list of Ruin's children. 

Shalmistra and Darvinin returned to Annun with their child Dionaea, and stayed in the service of King Mythrandril until Dionaea was grown; then they married again, and set out to see the world together. 

Alnira and Nym remained a couple, and each gave birth to a girl; Nym insisted on learning everything Ruin and the others could teach her about battle, and eventually became one of druids' strongest defenders, while Alnira slowly rebuilt her circle of druids and eventually grew into the duties her mentor had once carried.

Ruin's children grew up together, except for a few months a year when Eva would show up to collect her niece and nephews and disappear into the depths of the rainforest. The half-dragon child Risk grew up nearly feral, fighting with claws and rage but relaxed and affable outside of battle. His brother Scar turned out to have a knack for sorcery and troublemaking, while their sister Sun became a cleric of Amun and put herself to work in Aesa's growing temple. Aesa's daughter Rose considered doing likewise, but joined the druids instead. Nym named her daughter Morrigan, and the girl grew up learning to master her instincts and abilities as a warbear; she became a disciplined fighter, and adventured for a time with her half-dragon half-brothers. Alnira's daughter Skyflower never quite seemed to settle on anything, until one day her father presented her with an old amulet and a new teacher... and she went off to learn horizon-walking from her grandfather and his new wife. 

Sherra, Sam, Leander the Elf, Evrimon, and Moonshadow all went on to further adventures and even a few proper heists, too many to detail here. Though they eventually parted ways, Sherra and Sam opened a school just outside of Annun, and the others made it a point to visit as often as they could. 

Did Ruin ever make it to Asgard and kill Galvera? No. But that doesn't mean he isn't still trying. And meanwhile, Tavros enlisted Thierry P Thierry to spread the true story of Galvera, so that the goddess could no longer hide behind the name of Vecna Orlok or pretend she'd been a god all along. The Order of Secrets is not in good shape these days-- well, not as far as anyone knows.

All of this was after the defeat of Behemoth and the sealing of the portals, of course. It was after the warbear queen met her fate, and Tavros Fontaine ascended to the throne of Sol Povos with his wife Jacqueline Bouvier at his side. But those, dear friends, are other stories, for another time...

Aftermath, Part Four: Tavros

Tavros stepped into the Chapel of Farewell alone, just as the sun was slipping below the horizon and painting the clouds with the last of its light. He noted with surprise that there were five tables now, though after a moment's reflection it made sense. He moved closer, looking them over. The bodies had not been allowed to decay yet; they would remain preserved until they were interred.

Anica lay cold and still, the fire gone out of her. He would never hear her laugh again, never see that challenging look on her face or the fierce grin as she drew her sword. Rune was on the table beside hers, no longer getting into everything, his endless stream of questions silenced. Vendril lay on the table beyond, as much a mystery to Tavros in death as he'd been in life, no longer there to support Aesa or protect Rose; someone had put the fox mask back over his face, which seemed fitting. Geddy was next, the irrepressibly animated bard now blank and expressionless. Would he be amused to know that that damned song of his had spread through the kingdom? Probably. And beyond him, a small gold statue of a dragon to mark the death of Rita. Tavros had no idea what Eva had done for her sister, but she'd disappeared for several days and then returned with that statue, saying only that it had belonged to their mother.

I failed you. Tavros knew that Anica -- probably all of them -- would have argued that he hadn't failed, that he'd done what was right and necessary. He wished he could believe it. That was why he had come alone; he could barely carry the weight of his own sorrow and guilt and regret; seeing it in anyone else would have broken him apart entirely. And there was also Vigo's exasperated voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that his future subjects should never see such weakness from him. 

He knew now how Martini must have felt when Azrael died, and wished that he'd taken more time to be kind to her then. Not that any of them had been given much of a chance for that; they'd been separated and fighting for their survival almost immediately afterwards. Still... 

He looked at Anica again and let the tears come. She and Tarric were his oldest friends, and the world wouldn't be the same without her. But he had to carry on, to defeat Behemoth and close the portals, to find some way to deal with the warbear queen and take back the throne. So he would do his weeping here, now, alone. And then he would go and become the King once again.

Aftermath, Part Three: Ruin, Werendril, Aesa, and Tarric

They weren't in their rooms, nor were they down in the primary chapel, nor was Werendril up in the Chapel of All. They weren't out in the practice yard, and Akkora hadn't seen them. It was only when he stepped into the antechamber to the Abbess' office and the halfling priest Birno rose to his feet with a resigned, "Ah," that Ruin thought he might be able to locate the rest of his people. 

"You know what I'm here for?" Ruin asked. 

Birno nodded sadly. "They will be in the Chapel of Farewell."

"In the what?" In all his time in the temple, Ruin had never heard of the Chapel of Farewell. 

"This way," said Birno, and set off. He walked quickly for a halfling, making it easy for Ruin to match his pace. "The Chapel of Farewell is where we bring the dead, where we clean them, and where we see them off on the journey from which they will not return. It's the open-walled chamber in the western tower."

"Ah," said Ruin, as Birno threaded their way across the temple and up the stairs. "That seems..." He wasn't sure how to finish that sentence, and finally settled for: "...appropriate."

"Under the circumstances, it was the best we could do." The halfling sounded pained, and perhaps also frustrated.

Ruin swallowed and choked back his rage. He had no doubts that everyone in the temple had done their best. No, what he needed to now was to finish wiping out the Order of Secrets, and then find some way to get to Asgard and kill Galvera again, this time properly. She needed to die in a way that even a goddess couldn't recover from, and he needed to make it happen.

No. What he needed to do now was raise his children and pay his debt to the druids. But someday... Someday.

The Chapel of Farewell was like nothing he had ever seen before. Three wooden tables had been covered with blankets, and a circle of chairs surrounded them; there was even a series of cots along the outside walls. The western wall was entirely open, and as the sun set its light would fill this room. 

Each table held a body wrapped in a shroud, but before he could even begin to confront that he was faced with the survivors: Aesa, holding their daughter Rose; Tarric and Werendril, sitting side by side in shared grief. They were sitting in the chairs and watching over the bodies. 

Aesa saw him first. She rose, and the two paladins were so lost that they just watched as she walked over to him. "Ruin..." she said. "We saw... And Anica, and Vendril, and Rune..." 

"I know," he choked out, as Birno disappeared silently back down the stairs. "And I know they can't be brought back."

She nodded, then collapsed against him, keeping Rose just far enough aside to avoid crushing the little girl between them. Ruin held her until she finally drew back; Aesa didn't cry, but he thought that was only because she'd used up all her tears already. Rose actually smiled at him, and for a moment his heart caught. It should never have come to this. More people, dead on his account. More people he had cared about, lost to him. It should never have come to this. 

Tarric rose, approached, and studied them. "I know this was Vecna's fault," the paladin said, studying Ruin's expression closely. "I know it. But I still hate you for it."

Ruin nodded. "So do I."

Tarric snorted. "Is it weird that hearing that helps?"

Ruin shook his head. "Not at all." He stepped past Tarric, past the chair where Werendril still sat looking pollaxed, and went to each of the bodies in turn. Anica, always so fiery, was still and quiet now; death had taken that fierce energy from her. Vendril... Ruin wasn't sure he'd ever understood the man who had stepped in to court Aesa and help raise Rose, but he didn't need to understand to feel the loss. The Silver Fox was irrevocably dead, his soul carried back to Asgard despite Vecna's defeat. Oh, yes. It might take centuries, but Ruin was going to find a way to cross over, and to slay the false goddess. 

He went to Rune at last, and that was when he broke. For a long, impossible moment he didn't even realize he was sitting on the stone floor. All he could see was his child's face, still and cold, all traces of that child's curiosity and developing awareness wiped away. The image consumed him utterly. He couldn't chase it away with justifications for the battle or thoughts of vengeance; he couldn't focus on anything else but the face of his son. 

It was the knowledge of his other children that brought him slowly back. Rose needed him here. Scar, Risk, and Sun needed him here. Whatever children Alnira and Nym eventually gave birth to would need him here. 

Galvera had been wrong. She'd seen his ties to the world as vulnerabilities, and tried to make him see them that way too. They weren't, though. They were strengths. They were anchors, dragging him back from despair. 

Werendril came and knelt beside him, holding him as he sobbed and keened. That was an anchor, too. Then Aesa came as well, and finally Tarric. And when the last of his tears ran out, they held him still. It didn't make things all right. Things were never again going to be all right. But it made things possible.

Aftermath Part Two: Ruin and Eva

The nursery was crowded, but the three young half-dragons had been given a small room to themselves. With their claws and their strength, it was too easy for them to damage the other children -- accidentally, or in a fit of temper. 

Ruin paused in the doorway, swallowed, and then stepped over the short metal gate and went inside. Eva followed him in. 

The children were engaged in some sort of game that involved building a fortress with wooden blocks and setting the carved figures of human soldiers on its walls. He suspected there would soon be a moment where they went to tear the whole thing apart, but instead Scar looked up at them, focused on Eva, and said: "You're not Mother."

Eva nodded approvingly. "That's correct. I'm your aunt. Your mother was my sister."

The other two fell silent as well. Then Sun said, "Was?" She was Ruin's daughter, and frequently more perceptive than her brothers. All three looked obviously worried, but it was no surprise that Sun was the one who'd latched onto the change in tense. 

"Was," confirmed Ruin, watching them closely. "My children..." He seated himself, leaving Eva standing, and motioned for them to come over. Sun settled in front of him, and Scar sat beside him; Risk actually crawled into his lap. "Your mother..." He swallowed. "Your mother fell in battle yesterday. She was killed by a goddess, and we cannot bring her back."

Risk turned and tried to bite him; Scar tried to sink his claws into Ruin's arm. "You lie." Sun just sat in front of him, looking stunned. Fortunately, neither of the boys was able to do enough damage to actually break the skin. 

"I wish I was," Ruin said simply. "I wish it was just a story, and not something that happened." She died of knowing me, he thought, and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew the thought was wrong and self-important: Rita had been killed for being Eva's sister more than for anything to do with him. He knew it, but he couldn't shake it off. 

There was a momentary scuffle of movement as Risk tried to bite down harder and Scar tried again to claw him. Eva swayed slightly, but held herself back from trying to interfere. 

Then Sun leaned back and said, "But you killed the goddess, right?"

Ruin choked out something that was half laugh and half sob. "You bet your scales we did. Beat her down, destroyed her plan, wiped out her priesthood..." There was more to do on that front, he knew, but that could wait. They were still too bloodied and bruised for it now. 

"Good," Sun said firmly, and the two boys stopped trying to tear their father apart. 

Then Risk burst into tears, and a moment later all three children were sobbing. Ruin wept with them. Rita had never been destined to be his one true love, but he had loved her -- in his own idiotic, distracted way -- and he felt her loss keenly. 

When things had settled back down, minutes or hours later, Eva knelt down and put a hand on Ruin's shoulder. "Let me take them for a while," she said. "I know you have other business."

Scar studied her suspiciously. "You can't be our new mother."

"No," Eva agreed. "I can only be your aunt, but I can help to take care of you. Right now, all four of us need food; and your father has other duties." She glanced at Ruin. "We'll need to make some decisions before too long."

He nodded and looked down. After a moment, Risk scooted off of him, and Sun stood up and offered her hand to Eva. That seemed to settle the other two, and she was able to lead them out and off towards the dining hall.

Aftermath, Part One: Ruin and Eva

"They can't be brought back, can they?" Ruin stopped beside Eva, where she stood at the railing and looked out over Mar Dentro at the distant shore and the tall trees of the Duendewood rain forest beyond.

The gold dragon, currently pretending to be a rather attractive human woman, shook her head. "No. I asked Grandfather. He said that with their souls brought across that way, there was nothing that either mortal or god could do to send them back." Her eyes never left the distant line of the rain forest. There was a long moment of silence, before she added: "He promised to negotiate a place for them, a chance to become Celestials and perhaps -- eventually -- gods in their own right, if they can find enough worshippers here in Midgard."

"But for now, for us, they are dead and nothing more." Ruin's voice was flat. He didn't want hope; he wanted to understand.

"For now," Rita agreed. "For now, they are dead and we must look to the living." She tore her gaze from the forest and turned to regard him. 

Ruin had stopped with a full pace between them: close enough to talk, but no closer. No shared whispers; no intimacies.

"My sister had children by you," Eva said quietly. "My nephews and niece."

Ruin nodded. "Scar, Risk, and Sun."

"We should go to them."

"Will you take me?" That was why Ruin had come to stand beside Eva. He had no comfort to offer her; she had no comfort to offer him. But she could carry him back to the temple, and they could present the news together. It was the fastest possible way to get there short of teleportation, and until Marshall recovered enough to resurrect Leira there would be no teleportation. 

"Ruin?" called Tavros, from the far side of the deck. The half-dragon sensed trouble, though not as well as Ruin did with the crystal at his belt. "What are you--?"

"Yes," said Eva, and reverted to her dragon form, her wings beating hard to keep her weight off the deck. Tavros staggered back from the force of the artificial wind; so did several of the sailors. She snatched Ruin off the deck in one claw, and rose into the air. "Let's go find what remains of our families."